Rosalie Kasten is out of luck and out of time. For the last two years, she's been living on borrowed time. After her involvement with the death of Edwin Pierce - Alexander Pierce's son - it's only a matter of time before Hydra comes for her.
James...
𝐑𝛐𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚 mind to throw all the food in the trash right away. As soon as James is out of the room, the tears start falling down her cheeks, and she has to grab onto the surface to steady herself. Her heartbeat is roaring in her ears, pounding away, and she can't control her breathing either. The more she tries, the harder it gets. It isn't even James she's angry with.
It's herself, always herself. The problem is that it's utterly and irrevocably her fault. It's her fault how everything ended with Ed. If only she could have pulled that trigger, then her brother wouldn't be dead. Ed never saw her as a real threat, she should have stayed with Hydra and not pulled her brother into it.
Pierce didn't even care enough about what she did to kill her, because what could someone like her do against someone like him? That's why he kept her alive even though he could have killed her so easily. They were never scared she would come after him because she wouldn't be able to kill him anyway.
It wouldn't be the first time she thinks everything would have turned out better if he had just finished the job. Castor was always better than her. She remained safe and sound while her brother suffered. She never deserved to live. If her brother had been in her place, then he could have done it. He could have saved both of them, but she couldn't even do that. She couldn't pull the fucking trigger.
"Fuck!" She cries and slams her hand onto the kitchen counter.
The sobs are coming in quick succession, and she leans over the counter, her head drops low. Even now, after all this time, she can't pull the trigger on a real gun. No matter how hard she tries, God knows she's tried. Her body cowers as she feels a set of arms wrap around her.
"Get the fuck off of me, James!" She yells, trying to push away, but he's not letting go, and she can't get him to move in the slightest. "I told you to fucking leave!" She tries again.
"I'm sorry," he speaks calmly, and she feels it from the depth of his chest.
Rosalie isn't sure what to do, but she ends up burying her face in his chest. She's so God damn angry and mad at him.
"I hate you," she sobs, trying to hit his chest as hard as she can. Her arms are still mostly locked to her sides by his arms.
"I know, Rose. I know," James comforts, and his warm hand runs up and down her back.
